


In Which Peggy Is Observant, and Also Very Useful

by wneleh



Category: Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:05:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13049934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wneleh/pseuds/wneleh
Summary: “If Common things are coming south, that supports the argument that they’re a harbinger of the next ice age,” said Titty. “We shall all have to move to France, or maybe the Caribbean.”





	In Which Peggy Is Observant, and Also Very Useful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rho/gifts).



> Takes place shortly after _Great Northern?_ , Arthur Ransome's final completed novel.

“Join Dorothea and Titty in the study,” Mrs. Callum had directed, and so Peggy had tried, but then there was SO MUCH in that one space that she found herself rooted in the doorway.

Close your mouth, you dunderheaded hippopotamus, Nancy’s voice in her head said, and Peggy obeyed, though she shot back that, with a head so large, she suspected hippopotami were among the brighter African herbivores. 

Also vicious, if she recalled correctly. She liked that thought.

Though individuals of any species could be placid dunderheads, she supposed; look at herself, still in the doorway. And Titty and Dot were now staring, albeit kindly.

The younger girls waved her in, but seemed to be in the middle of an argument, so Peggy took a moment to do what she should have done already, which was: work her way through Nancy’s list of Things That Must Be Observed.

One. Potential exits. Just the doorway she was standing in; though it was comfortingly broad. And two large, side-hinged, shaded windows, which looked to be merely single-paned; she would have to check the locking mechanism, if she could figure out how to do so discretely. 

Two. Friends and enemies. Well, that was easy, just Dot and Titty, now completely ignoring her. What are they doing? Nancy’s voice in her head prodded. Writing, of course, Titty in a notebook, Dot leaning over the smallest, most precious-looking typewriter Peggy had ever seen, not that she made a habit of noticing typewriters.

Notice everything. Yes, of course.

Three. Potential weapons. No crossed swords, unfortunately, but all sorts of projectiles – walls of books, knickknacks of every sort – it was a lot like Uncle Jim’s houseboat, actually, and that’s how she would describe it to Nancy if Nancy and Mother didn’t get a chance to stop in themselves after their business in the city – and, look there, a collection of potted cacti! Cacti, not being nautical, were not an area of expertise useful to Captain Nancy, but still Peggy could, out of the half-dozen, identify the Christmas cactus, aloe vera (not properly a cactus, of course), and pricky pear.

Were cactus spines poisonous? Peggy didn’t know. 

Unforgivable not to, said Nancy’s voice in her head. 

I bet you don’t know either, Peggy argued. We really should find out. 

We can get Dot to harvest some, if they they’re useful, said Nancy’s voice in her head.

Four. Potential tools. Well, there were chipped stones amongst the books, and Peggy supposed that they were ancient spearheads or carving implements; not currently the best choice for any tasks likely to arise! There was also a desk that Peggy imagined held paper and writing implements and scissors and the like; and, on a table next to the desk, a wooden box that might hold all sorts of useful things, anything from thread to surgical instruments. 

“Come in and join us,” Dorothea said, and this was enough for Peggy’s feet to move. With no room on the sofa, she settled into a large, overstuffed armchair that smelled like soap and tobacco and maybe formaldehyde. Much like the cabin of Uncle Jim’s houseboat, and Peggy wondered if all men’s things smelled like this; or at least all men who made it their business to travel and collect. 

“We’re working on a proper accounting of Dick’s discovery, to send as a Letter to the _Bulletin of the British Ornithologists' Club_ ,” said Dorothea. “’A New Hearth for the Great Northern Diver’.”

“Which makes no sense,” cut in Titty. “Nests don’t have anything remotely close to a hearth. It should be, ‘The Expanding Breeding Grounds of the Common Loon: Is Another Ice Age Upon Us?’”

“Which is overly sensational,” said Dot. “The poor creatures just got lost, Dick reckons. And Dick won’t like it if we call them ‘Common.’”

“I know that, but if Common things are coming south, that supports the argument that they’re a harbinger of the next ice age,” said Titty. “We shall all have to move to France, or maybe the Caribbean.”

Peggy shivered. An ice age did sound exciting, but not the sort of thing that would happen before they had to return to school at the end of half-term, which made it useless at the moment. “What does Dick think?” she asked. “Why isn’t he writing it himself?”

“He tried,” said Dorothea, “Right at the beginning of half-term, but all he did was crumple paper. He’s turned the job over to me.” 

“Well, us,” said Titty, and Dorothea shrugged her agreement.

“Have you looked at other scientific letters, or whatever, to see what they’re like?” Peggy asked. “There has to be something useful in your father’s books!”

Dorothea answered, “They’re all about archeology, and dreadfully long.”

“And very dry,” said Titty. “We looked at the _Proceedings of the Archeological Society of Oxford_ …” 

She gestured with her right hand, then, with a squeal, pulled it back. “It BIT me! Dot, your cactus!”

“Which one?” asked Dorothea, taking Titty’s hand. “Looks like it’s from Gertrude Bell, the prickly pear; or, rather, DOESN’T look, because I can’t see any spines.” 

“Well, I can feel them!” said Titty. “On my thumb and forefinger, and on my palm.”

“Are they poisonous?” Peggy asked, leaning in. Indeed, she could see nothing.

“Not exactly,” said Dorothea. “But they do irritate, especially if we don’t get them out right away. And my mother’s as nearsighted as Dick…”

Her mother? scoffed Nancy’s voice in Peggy’s head.

Don’t worry, it won’t come to that, Peggy answered.

As expected, the wooden box was useful, containing both a magnifying glass and sturdy-looking tweezers. “Get out your electric torch,” said directed Titty, who complied with her left hand. 

Whilest biting her lip; the spines must really be uncomfortable.

Peggy took a quick look at the attacking cactus, using the magnifying glass to see what the tip of the spines looked like. No hook; good.

“Okay, Dot, I’m Ship’s Surgeon today and you get to be nurse,” said Peggy. “Hold the light steady…”

She gripped Titty’s hand and rotated it, trying to shine the light directly onto her palm, but even with the magnifying glass held Just So she could see nothing. But something on the side of Titty’s forefinger glinted…

The spines lost their invisibility if they caught the light along their sides! 

Peggy handed the magnifying glass to Dot, then adjusted Dot’s grip on both glass and torch.

“I think,” Peggy said, “that you should simply write exactly what was observed. ‘Dear Sirs, we wish to report that on the Nth of August in this Year of our Lord, a mating pair of Great Northern Divers…”

She pulled the spine from Titty’s forefinger and looked at it closely; it seemed intact.

“Also apparently somewhat irreverently called the Common Loon, was observed on the McGinty Fjord in the Outer Hebrides. Male and Female and Two Eggs.’”

She pulled another spine, and then a third, from Titty’s forefinger, and then adjusted Dot’s and Titty’s hands again, to see if more spines caught the light. Yes, one more. And now for her thumb…

“And then you attach Dick’s pictures.”

Just two spines on Titty’s thumb, which Peggy removed quickly; she was getting pretty good at this.

Save those, said Nancy’s voice in her head.

No, she answered, starting on Titty’s palm. The younger girls had by now figured out how to work with her to maximize spine visibility, which made the removing these last few quick work.

Titty now poked at the tiny wounds on her hand, seemingly unconvinced that the spines were actually completely out. Peggy reached and broke off a tip of the aloe vera. “Rub this on your hand,” she directed.

“Good idea,” said Dot. “I mean, about the aloe. I think your letter strategy is dreadfully boring.”

“Yes, it doesn’t convey the flavor of the thing at all,” said Titty.

“Well, if it’s flavor you’d like, write the whole tale separate from the science,” Peggy said. “Include everything – the fog, the natives, Roger’s Pict House, that villain from _Pterodactyl_. The birds really were the least of it.”

* * * THE END * * *


End file.
